Persuasion
by CeliaEquus
Summary: Dumbledore makes a request: that Hermione goes back in time to save Sirius from Azkaban. How? By convincing Bartemius Crouch Sr to give him a trial. The usual disclaimers apply. This is AU and OOC, so you have been warned.


"Persuasion"

"Your first assignment as a Phoenix Auror," Albus Dumbledore said, "is to save Sirius from Azkaban."

"Sirius?" Hermione Granger asked, eyes widening to an improbable size. "Sirius Black? _That_ Sirius?" He nodded gravely. "B-but that's impossible."

"Hermione," Dumbledore said, looking older than ever, "it is imperative. I have done research," he pushed forward a journal, filled with his elegant handwriting, "and if Sirius didn't go to Azkaban then we would stand a better chance now."

"What do you mean?" she asked, flicking through the pages. He was silent. "Professor?"

"Now, my dear, you know how inappropriate that title is," he said, smiling sadly. Two months ago Voldemort had taken over Hogwarts while the headmaster was following a lead. Most of the older students had managed to escape, although some died in the battle that followed. The Order had responded, but it was too late for the younger students who were not purebloods.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and she skimmed through the text. He had done his research well. What else could he do? With the diminished forces of the Light, he had been unable to try to take over the school again. Professor Snape had been killed when he was found to be assisting 'impure' students to safety. They were the only ones who had survived, and were now under Order protection.

Ten minutes later, Hermione had finished reading. She placed the book on the table, and looked up.

"What is your decision, Hermione?"

"Head… I mean, Albus," she said, returning the book, "from what I understand, all I must do is change Mr. Crouch's mind about sending Sirius straight to Azkaban, and insist that he be questioned _fully_ under Veritaserum. Then, by the time I get back, Harry will have had a happier childhood, Hogwarts would still have been taken over, but more students – and Harry – would have survived," her voice caught, as she remembered the death of her best friend, "and we would have access to more of the books in the library because _Sirius_ would still be alive."

"That is right."

"And Professor Snape wouldn't have been caught, so he'd be alive as well."

"Yes."

"And a spy at Hogwarts for us."

"Yes." He smiled hopefully. "Please say you will do it, Hermione."

"Of course," she said, astounded. "How could I not? It will bring back so many. I would be crazy to say no."

"Bartemius Crouch was a stubborn man," Dumbledore warned her.

"Knowing what is at stake, I will not fail you, sir," she said, standing. He stood as well. "But, uh… how do I…"

"Rookwood once gave Ludo Bagman a trinket the one time Bagman beat him at Wizard's Chess. I managed to procure this barely days before Hogwarts was taken over. It can only travel back in years." It looked like a Time-Turner, only with noticeable differences. "If we wait another ten months… we may not be here to make a difference," he said. "It works the same way as the device you made use of in your third year."

Hermione hung it around her neck, the chain cool against her skin. It was only a few days after Halloween. She had started training to be an Auror, but that had been interrupted by Voldemort's simultaneous takeover of Hogwarts and the Ministry. She had completed her training in hiding with Tonks and Moody. Never had she envisioned her first mission to be something like _this_. Still, whatever was necessary.

She hadn't cried since Harry's death. Ginny had also died, and Ron was still grieving with his family. Hermione had instead thrown herself into training. Because of some kind of Black-only protective charms on the books in the library at Grimmauld Place, there was only had limited access. Therefore, nobody was able to do any research. There was nothing else for her to do.

"How do I appeal to Mr. Crouch?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"Follow your instincts, Hermione," he said.

"Should I offer an exchange of information – tell him that his son is a Death Eater?"

"No!" Dumbledore said firmly. She looked surprised. "Tell him nothing about the future, or even secrets about that time. I have not accounted for those in my notes. Do anything you must to change his mind. When in doubt, ask him what you can do. Tell him that you are a friend or relative of Sirius Black, and wish for him to have a fair trial. Do not go to the trial yourself, in case Sirius sees you. You did not have much interaction with Bartemius during your fourth year, did you?"

"Virtually none."

He smiled kindly. For the first time in two months, a sparkle seemed to be returning to his eyes. "We will all be indebted to you for this, Hermione."

"I _will_ succeed in this, Albus," she said. "For all our sakes, I _will_ succeed."

* * *

Hermione waited in the lobby. There was so much activity in the days after Voldemort's 'death' that she went unnoticed. As the day wore on, the number of people dashing through the Atrium lessened, until it was home-going time for most people. She had been able to find out what had happened to Sirius so far. Just as they already knew, he had been taken to Azkaban straight away, and questions had been raised about whether or not he should have a trial. Crouch was going to be making an announcement in two days' time about what would happen.

She didn't have much time; but then, she already knew that.

Casting a Disillusionment Charm, Hermione went to the lifts, and in less than ten minutes she was outside Crouch's office. She removed the charm, and knocked at the door.

"Come in!"

She entered, chewing her lip, and stared at the man half-slumped over his desk, doing paperwork. The pile in his 'Out' tray was huge – the one in his 'In' tray even bigger. She felt a twinge of sympathy. She closed the door behind her, and stepped forward.

He looked up, and she swallowed. He looked so much younger now; he couldn't have been much older than Lucius Malfoy in her time. His shrewd eyes took in her somewhat dishevelled appearance, and she nervously straightened her robes. She also studied him, noting that the hair which was so meticulously parted in her time was in disarray, leading her to suspect that he'd been running his hands through it all day. He sniffed, causing his moustache to move slightly, and leaned back in his chair.

"And you are?" he asked.

"My name is Hermione Lyons," she said. "I'm a family friend of Sirius Black. Well, he is a friend of my family."

"I see," he said, eyes narrowing.

"No, you don't see, Mr. Crouch. We know that he's innocent, and we want him to have a fair trial. A _fair_ trial. He isn't a Death Eater. You just need to look at his arm."

"We have already checked."

"…But there isn't a Dark Mark."

"_He_ did not mark all of his followers," Crouch said, tapping his fingers on his wand. He had drawn it, resting the side on the edge of his desk, casually pointed at Hermione. "This makes it more difficult for us, you see?"

"Then question him under Veritaserum," Hermione said. "It's the most powerful truth serum…"

"I know that."

"Horace Slughorn would be more than capable of…"

"Why should we treat Death Eaters fairly?" he asked, leaning forward again.

"How can you possibly know if someone's a Death Eater unless you give them a trial?" she asked, frustrated. "Surely it cannot be _that_ hard. Sirius Black, despite his family's reputation as Dark supporters, has always been an honest person. He was best friend to the Potters, and is Harry's godfather!"

"You clearly do not know the circumstances of the case," he said dismissively, standing up.

"Try me," she said, standing in front of him to prevent his departure. He raised an eyebrow.

"Very well," he said slowly. He indicated the chair in front of his desk. "Please take a seat, Miss Lyons. It _is_ 'Miss', isn't it?"

"Yes," she said, sitting down.

"Now, Black – being a friend of the Potters – was their Secret Keeper. That is well known."

"But he was the obvious choice," she said. "Why make the obvious choice the _actual_ Secret Keeper? Ask Albus Dumbledore."

"Miss Lyons…"

"_Please_ listen to me," she begged, leaning forward. "Please, sir. Just give Sirius a trial. Please? He is innocent. I know this. And I can help make the potion…"

"Veritaserum cannot be used in trials because it is unreliable," Crouch said. "Different people have different levels of resistance to it, just as some have no resistance."

"But if it works…"

"Precisely. _If_."

"For Merlin's sake, I'll make the damn potion if I have to!" Hermione said, standing up abruptly. Crouch tightened his grip on his wand.

"Sit down, Miss Lyons," he said calmly.

"Think how useful it could be on the people who _don't_ have a resistance to it," she said softly. "Please, Mr. Crouch. I know all about Veritaserum – I have studied it, and its antidote – but what more can I do to convince you of his innocence? There must be _some_ way! Are you so against him that you would break the law simply because of personal feelings? That is so unprofessional," she added, shaking her head.

"He is a Death Eater. It is as simple as that."

"By not giving him a fair trial, you're just as bad as one of them."

He frowned. "Miss Lyons…" he repeated.

"Where is the trust? Look," she said, hands propping her up as she leant against the desk, "what about the use of a Pensieve? He could show you memories of that night, of who the _real_ Secret Keeper was."

"He has confessed to his guilt," Crouch said, standing once again.

"Mr. Crouch, I'm begging you." She bit her lower lip. "Tell him that Harry needs to be with his godfather. Tell him that Remus won't have any friends without him, and already believes the worst. This will give him the motivation to tell you the truth. He's blaming himself because it's what he does. It's what Remus does, too, come to that." _And Harry_, her mind added. This brought tears to her eyes, and she looked back at the head of department. "A trial. Find him innocent. I know that Harry needs to be with his blood relations some of the time, but he'll be happier with Sirius. And Remus needs his only living friend."

"He killed Peter Pettigrew."

Hermione sighed. She couldn't tell him anything about this… could she? Dumbledore hadn't said…

Inspiration struck.

"I saw a picture of the finger," she said. "Read about everything in the _Prophet_." This was true. There had been clippings in the journal. "Look at the way the finger appears to have been cleanly cut off. If it was caused by an explosion, why is it so neat?" He blinked rapidly for a few seconds, now looking away in thought. "It's like the 'cut rope' theory."

"The 'cut rope' theory?"

She smiled wryly. "In a mystery story, if an accident has been caused because a rope supposedly failed, dropping something heavy, then it should look frayed. That is only if it has worn away naturally. However, if it has been cut, then it's suspicious. You see?"

"Yes." He looked away again. "I do see your point, Miss Lyons."

Hermione sighed in relief. "Thank you. I know it isn't much, but can't you see that not everything is as it seems?"

"Hmm."

"What can I do to persuade you to give him a trial?"

Crouch, however, wasn't listening, he had returned to his seat a second time, and was sorting through some files. Hermione walked around the desk, and looked over his shoulder. He had returned his wand to its holster.

"That's another thing," she said, and he turned around at the sudden words. "Oh, sorry." She blushed. "I just had a thought. What about his wand? Did you check it to see which spells were used last? And what about Pettigrew's wand?"

"I suppose we could examine them," he murmured, before turning back to his work. "I must set an example, though."

"What kind of example would it be if you sent an innocent man to prison?" she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. He stiffened, but she didn't move away, so he was forced to relax. "Please be reasonable about this. Be logical."

He was silent, and instead simply shuffled through his papers. Finally, he found a document, and Hermione registered the name 'Sirius Black' on it. The words 'NO TRIAL' were near the bottom of the parchment, and her heart sank. He had already made his decision.

Crouch reached for a quill. He opened an ink pot, dipped in the nib, and was soon crossing out the 'NO'. Hermione gasped quietly, and smiled as he blotted the lines. He cleaned the quill, returned it to its place, and screwed the cap back on the ink. He placed the parchment on top of the 'Out' tray, and Hermione moved out of the way as he stood once more. She followed him to the door, and watched as he pulled on his coat. She almost opened the door, when she saw him return to his desk, just to tap his wand on the top of 'Out' pile. They disappeared.

"What…"

"They're going to be processed now," he said, smiling at her gently. She beamed.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, running forward. She threw her arms around his shoulders. "Thank you, Mr. Crouch. You don't know how much this means to me. What a d-difference it will make." She pulled back enough to swipe at her tears. He was looking at her strangely. They gazed at each other for what seemed like hours. Finally, without knowing why, Hermione kissed him.

It was over as soon as it had begun, when she tore away from him with a gasp. He was staring at her, dumbfounded. She clapped her hands over her mouth, horrified.

"I'm so sor…"

"I'm married," he whispered. "I love my wife."

"I know," she said, backing away. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I think I'm just really, really grateful for what you've done. I know you'll find Sirius innocent. And you'll be able to make everyone else see it. S-so thank you for this." She was babbling, and blushed again. "Uh, I'd better go now." He was still just staring at her. "And I'm sorry, Mr. Crouch. Really. I shouldn't have… I mean…" She swallowed, wrenched open the door, and stepped into the hallway. "Goodbye!"

Finally, he snapped out of it. By the time he got to the door and looked left and right, Hermione was gone.

* * *

She appeared with a 'Pop!' in front of Dumbledore. He smiled up at her.

"What brings you here, Hermione?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," she said. She frowned, and looked down at the necklace around her neck in confusion. Something crumpled in her pocket; something was in there aside from her wand. She pulled out a note addressed to the man in front of her, written in his own handwriting. "Maybe this will explain it."

He nodded as he read the letter. "I see. Do you recall visiting the past, Miss Granger?"

"The past? Well, that would explain the Time-Turner." She pulled it off, and handed it to the former headmaster. "But why can't I remember? And what did I do?"

"You are no doubt disoriented, as you have changed the past that you knew," Dumbledore said. "Give it time. I am afraid that I cannot help you with your second question."

"I can," someone murmured. Hermione turned around sharply, and relaxed.

"Oh. Hello, Mr. Crouch," she said. He nodded at her, unsmiling. "I'm sorry; I was interrupting something, wasn't I?"

"May I speak to you in private?" he asked. Confused, she nodded, and they left the room. No one was out in the corridor, but he tugged her along gently by her elbow until they reached the empty family tree room. He warded the door, and then turned to Hermione.

"What is it, Mr. Crouch?" she said.

"We met," he blurted out. "In the past." Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped open. "You convinced me to give Sirius Black a fair trial. You told me that he was innocent."

"Well, of course he…" She slowed down. Yes, he'd had a trial. They all knew that. He threw a party every year to celebrate. But something was niggling at the back of her mind.

"No one knows what things might have been like, but I remember you," he said. "I'm the only one, but I…" He stepped forward, trailing off. She stared up at him, and her breathing quickened as he stroked back her hair. "I am unsure whether or not I want you to remember."

"Why not?" she whispered. Instead of speaking, he bent down, and pressed a brief kiss to her lips. She froze, now gazing into the distance. He went to move past her, but she grasped his arm, holding him in place. When she finally turned to face him, she looked at him as if she'd never seen him before.

"Do you remember?" he asked.

She smiled slowly, and nodded. "I remember."

His eyes searched her face. "Good."

"So… what now?"

"Nothing," he said, and he removed the wards from the door.

**

* * *

**

Okay, I experimented with different endings for this before settling on this one. I know that it's supposed to be a romance, and I'm sorry if I disappointed anyone. But let me establish a few things first.

**1: Bartemius Crouch Senior is 37 years older than Hermione (though a little thing like that has never stopped me before).**

**2: He loved his wife very much, as he said. After all, look at all he did for her by freeing their son from Azkaban so deviously! Not that it ended well…**

**3: I don't honestly think they could fall in love just like that, based on so short an acquaintance. It was bad enough that any kissing went on in the first place, but I had to get some kind of romance in there, and it was also a way of bringing back her memory.**

**4: I do so love to taunt people with open endings sometimes. Even if it leads to bids for unnecessary sequels. (And even if he's now a widower.)**

**R&R, please! And anyone who even considers flaming this story for being OOC and AU – despite being warned – think again.**


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